Hidden Motives

Snape scratched his head in confusion, and even Dumbledore appeared perplexed.

"Hmm, this is quite a conundrum," Dumbledore mused, stroking his long, white beard. "Seems like they are adamant about it being a mere coincidence."

Snape, still puzzled, inquired, "So, what's the plan?"

Dumbledore gazed thoughtfully towards the Forbidden Forest, his mind weaving through the encounters with Saruman and the creature, Shelob. He considered the images etched in Gollum's memory.

"I reckon we should inform the members of the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore suggested, his tone shifting from casual to grave. "Their objective might align with ours—to thwart the Dark Lord's resurgence."

"But what about evidence?" Snape questioned.

Dumbledore leaned back, his eyes twinkling. "Ah, evidence, my dear Snape. We must unravel the truth. If Saruman crafted the parchment, there's more to his tale. We can't take it at face value."

Snape, sensing Dumbledore's uncertainty, asked, "What's the next move then?"

"Contact the Order," Dumbledore replied, a hint of humor in his voice. "But, we also need to explore further. Check the Forbidden Forest again, inspect Mrs. Prince's' forbidden book area, and delve into other collections. We need more clues."

As Snape left, burdened by the weight of impending investigations, Dumbledore's gaze lingered on the parchment. Deep in thought, he contemplated the possibility of Saruman's hidden motives.

"As for Quirrell," Dumbledore mused to himself, "I have a plan for him. And this other 'mouse' Saruman mentioned—I'll find it."

Dumbledore remained resolute, convinced of Harry Potter's pivotal role. He envisioned a future where Harry might confront the Demon Sauron.

Snape descended from the headmaster's office, leaving Dumbledore alone with his thoughts and the parchment that held secrets yet to be unveiled.

"The Fellowship of the Ring, Gandalf, Baggins..."

"In Saruman's own words, their mission ended in failure. So, why did Sauron remain dormant for a millennium? And where did the Lord of the Rings vanish to? How did it suddenly find its way into Gollums hands and eventually end up stolen by a certain Baggins?

"What role does the Holy White Council play in all of this? Is Saruman a force for good or evil? Is everything is a sham?"

Dumbledore found his thoughts becoming increasingly tangled. He strolled over to the Pensieve tucked in the corner of his office, pressed his wand against his temple, and extracted several thoughts from his mind, letting them swirl into the depths of the basin.

After this ritual, Dumbledore appeared more at ease.

"No matter what, there's always time. Let's first resolve the matter with Quirrell!"

...

The following day, Artel, seemingly unaffected, enjoyed a pleasant day in Switzerland. In the evening, he visited the Swiss Ministry of Magic and purchased a copy of the Daily Prophet.

As anticipated, the headline covered the attack on the Ministry of Magic in London on Christmas Eve.

The main feature displayed a photograph of Umbridge, the deputy minister of the London Ministry of Magic, standing before the camera, signaling against photography. The photo vividly captured the interior of the Ministry of Magic's hall.

Beneath this image were smaller photos, including close-ups of the towering rafters, the intricate lines on the Brothers of Magic sculpture, and a detailed shot of Dumbledore at the Ministry of Magic.

Rita, being the journalist favored by Artel, crafted a piece that was eloquent yet sensational. Her writing skillfully blended facts and speculation, combining on-the-spot reporting with insider revelations, and a touch of sensationalism.

In summary, the entire incident was artfully, even excessively, portrayed before the eyes of wizards across the entire wizarding world.

Everyone now knew that the Ministry of Magic in London had been assaulted on Christmas Eve by a giant cauldron brought by a wizard named Saruman from the Holy White Council.

The venerable Dumbledore himself conceded that he paled in comparison to Saruman.

In a dusty corner of the newspaper, tucked away like a well-guarded secret, a proclamation from the Ministry of Magic in London unfolded its tale.

It hinted at the imminent capture and trial of the instigator, Saruman, with a foreboding promise of Azkaban's cold embrace awaiting him. The newspaper spoke of retribution, justice, and the bounty of 1,000 Golden Galleons offered to any wizard unveiling Saruman's whereabouts.

The day unfolded as a dark stain on the honor of the Ministry of Magic, its shame echoing through the enchanted realm. The Daily Prophet's magic ink fueled the flames of gossip, turning the wizarding world into a cauldron of speculation.

The name Saruman echoed through the mystical corridors, leaving the entire magic realm astir. Whispers connected the Holy White Council to the sinister Death Eater group, weaving a web of intrigue.

Having perused the entire Daily Prophet, Artel's lips curled into a cynical smile as he tossed the paper onto the nearby table.

Sophia, curious yet oblivious to the unfolding drama, peered over. She rubbed her eyes, convinced she witnessed movement in the photo within the newspaper.

"Perhaps last night's late hours are playing tricks on me?" Sophia mused, placing a cup of steaming milk beside Artel before leaving with a puzzled expression.

The following day, after a hearty breakfast at the hotel, the Shelbys boarded a private plane bound for Birmingham.

By noon, Artel found himself back at Shelby Manor. After a satisfying lunch and a change into fresh attire, he commandeered Jimmy's car, steering it towards Manchester.

His mission: to extend an invitation to the Hermione family for the grand New Year's Day celebration prepared by the Shelbys.

.....

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